Christmas at Russia's
by Cap'n Kirkland
Summary: Ivan is holding the Christmas party. Anything could happen.


The Christmas party was being held at Ivan's house. Everybody was extremely wary of how the party was going to go, and many were hoping that they would not be asked to become one with him. However, every single nation and micronation was going, too scared to decline the Russian.

* * *

Arthur rummaged through his wardrobe trying to find a decent outfit. He had been thinking about the party for weeks, but had still not decided on something to wear. Clothes were strung all over the place, and it looked as if a tornado had hit. They had to dress up, and Arthur was stumped.

The doorbell rang, and the Brit dashed downstairs. He opened the door to reveal his boyfriend leaning against the porch wall. He looked great, with his blue revolution jacket, and gold epaulettes. It brought back so many sad memories from the revolution, and Arthur had to take a minute to compose himself and force himself not to cry.

"Yo Artie," he said, inviting himself in. "Why are you going to Ivan's dressed like that? You're meant to look wow tonight, and you're, well, not."  
"Thank you twit, but I have not chosen an outfit yet. I simply cannot decide what to wear," Arthur replied irritably, having immediately overcome the sadness just by hearing the insufferable nickname.  
"Calm down dude. I'll come with you, for the hero must be able to find you a brilliant outfit for tonight!" Alfred grabbed Arthur's hand and raced upstairs, dragging him towards his wardrobe.

When they reached the wardrobe, the American began the search for the perfect outfit. He knew that his boyfriend was just kicking up a fuss and being a drama queen, and that Arthur had plenty of outfits that would qualify as fancy dress.  
"Okay Artie, why don't you go make yourself a cup of tea, and I'll get started on finding you something to wear," he said, trying to shoo the Brit away so that he could have a look at all the clothes that Arthur owned, and not just the ones that he would permit him to see.  
"Don't be silly. You'll mess up all of my clothes and my room. Most certainly not!"

"Dude, have you seen this room?" Alfred exclaimed. "It looks like someone dropped a load of TNT in here. Whatever I do is not going to make this worse. Now scram and leave me in peace to look for an outfit."  
Arthur stormed out of the room, muttering something about stupid Americans, and how they made insufferable boyfriends.

* * *

The Bad Touch Trio stared at the clock on the wall. They all had to go and pick up their respective boyfriends in a hour, but from different houses, and they hadn't even begun to think about getting ready. Quickly glancing at each other, they rushed upstairs, tearing their wardrobes apart in an attempt to find a suitable fancy dress outfit.

"Gilbert! Have you seen my shirt?!" screeched the Frenchman.  
"Which one?" the Prussian yelled back.  
"The white one that I wore with my waistcoat three days ago. You know, the only one that I bought in London."  
"Oh, that one," he replied. "I think I saw it in the hamper, in your bathroom."  
"Thanks!" he shouted back. He rushed to his bathroom, and sure enough, there was his white shirt. He pulled it on, and then went to grab his trousers. He had decided to go as Romeo Montague, and so the only part missing of his outfit was a rose. He slipped into the garden, carefully and tenderly snipping one of his beautiful red roses of the bush.

Meanwhile, Gilbert was frantic, searching vainly for a particular accessory: a pair of rabbit ears on a headband that he had purchases a while ago. Putting on his white shirt, trousers and tie, his red waistcoat and black tailcoat, he carried on searching for the rabbit ears and, once he had found them, he went on the hunt for his old pocket watch, one that he hadn't used in months. For Gilbert, the mighty Prussian, was going to the Christmas party as the White Rabbit from Alice in Wonderland.

The final one, Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, was perfectly calm. He had decided ages ago that he was going to go to this party as a matador, and no one could change his mind. It was a simple outfit: a white shirt, a black tie, a red and gold jacket, black and gold trousers and a nice red cape. He knew that he could make brilliant use of his cape by simply riling up his boyfriend, who if was slightly planning on humouring the Spaniard, would charge at him and go right through the cape.

They all entered the living room with their outfits on, and stared at each other for a few minutes before going into the middle of the room, drawing out their fencing sabres. They pointed them to each other creating a triangle of swords, joined them in the middle, and then pulled them up in salute. It was their signature move.

"Gilbert, you look great," Antonio said, smiling at the floppy bunny ears.  
"Well of course," he replied, being ever so modest as always. "I am the amazing Prussia after all. You look nice too Francis."  
"Merci, mon amie, tu est très beau. But Antonio, you look magnifique. With that get up, you will most definitely blow your little Lovino away," Francis gushed.  
"Gracias. Now, I must get going. Lovino will be mad if I am late, again."  
"Likewise," Francis and Gilbert said simultaneously.

They all headed for the garage, splitting off for their separate cars: Francis his Bugatti, Prussia his Mercedes-Benz and Antonio his GTA Spano. They all admired each others cars, but had previously promised themselves that they would only ever buy cars from their own countries, which did restrict their options quite considerably. They all set off, each driving towards their respective halves' holiday houses in France.

* * *

"Doitsu! Doitsu!" Feliciano yelled, running through the house. "I'm ready to go!"  
"Okay Feliciano, just calm down. I'll be there in a second!"  
The Italian began prancing around, waiting for Ludwig. His cat ears, paws and tail were bouncing around, due to his dancing. Finally, the German came down the stairs, a slight red dusting over his cheeks. Feliciano squealed at seeing his Doitsu with wolf ears. Obviously the paws and tail were an added bonus, but the ears simply looked excellent on him.

"Feli, don't. I know, I look absolutely ridiculous," Ludwig muttered.  
"No, no! You look incredible Doitsu, I love it, I really do!" Feliciano exclaimed. "We look amazing together, the scary werewolf and the neko. It is perfect. Please don't say that you don't like it. Are they such bad costumes?"  
"Of course not Feli, I just…" Ludwig paused, not sure in what manner to convey his feelings to his boyfriend.  
"You just what?" the Italian asked innocently.

"I don't know. You look amazing Feli, but, I feel weird and look weird. It just, isn't me."  
"Okay...what is you then?"  
"My normal clothes I guess...but I'm not allowed to wear those tonight," he replied.  
"Honestly Doitsu, you look amazing, even better than your brother, but don't tell him that. He'd pummel me."  
"Are you sure?"  
"Definitely. Could you wear it for me? It's only for this afternoon and evening."  
"I guess so."

"Yay!" The Italian began bouncing around the room again, before coming to stop in front of the kitchen door.  
"Doitsu, I know there will be food at the party, but there may not be pasta, especially if the Russian is holding it, so Doitsu, can I have some pasta? Please?"  
"Fine, but not too much, okay?" Ludwig shook his head as the Italian rushed into the kitchen and began to make himself some pasta. It appeared as though he could live his whole life purely on pasta.

* * *

"Ta daaaa!" Alfred said, showing Arthur what he had found for him to wear.  
"Absolutely not. This is why I didn't want you to look while I was not present, I knew this would happen." Arthur scowled.  
"Why not?" Alfred asked. "It's just a costume, isn't it?"  
"Not exactly," muttered the Brit. "Where did you find it?"  
"Er, just on top of this drawer here."  
"Damn that bloody frog. He must have moved it, he's the only one that knew where it was. I bet you anything he did it intentionally, so you would find it!"

"I don't understand," Alfred said confusedly. "What's wrong with it?"  
"It's not a costume," Arthur said with a sigh, "It's...my old uniform, so to speak."  
"What do you mean, uniform" As in…"  
"Yes. I used to be a pirate, in days of old. But then I decided to put it all behind me and become a new man. Yet every so often, I get small reminders of my past life, and it haunts me to this day."  
"What was so terrible about when you were a pirate?" the American asked curiously.  
"Ask Francis tonight. In fact, don't. I'd rather tell you, just not now."

"That's fine dude. I'll go look for something else for you to wear."  
"No, I'll wear it," Arthur said, holding out his hand for the outfit. "However, I will warn you, when I wear this, I do tend to go back to my old habits a bit, so try not to be alarmed if I start doing something that you are not accustomed to me doing. Just slap me over the head, and I should, within reason, go back to normal."  
"Okay, sure thing." Arthur went back into his room, outfit in hand.

He came out a few minutes later, and Alfred's jaw dropped. His boyfriend looked absolutely dashing in his pirate clothes, and he could see why the Brit had chosen them in the first place. They really suited him, and he was amazed that he had ever abandoned them.  
"You look...just, wow."  
"Mm. Now come on, let's get going, or we will be late for the party."

* * *

Raivis, Toris and Eduard ran around the house, adding the finishing touches for the party. Although Ivan was holding the party, he had left all of the work to the three Baltic men that lived with him, and they had been busy all day. However, after around ten minutes, they were done, and the main room did look pretty impressive.

"Okay, well I guess I'm going to go and get changed then," the Lithuanian said before leaving the room. Although they lived together, the three were not particularly good friends, rather acquaintances. However, the Russia they worked for and lived with insisted that they wore, more or less, the same outfit that night, and that they would serve the guests at the party if they needed it.

The three came back downstairs one after another. They all wore a black blazer and tie, but Toris had a yellow shirt on, Eduard had a blue shirt on, and Raivis had a red shirt on. Shortly after, the Russian's two sisters came downstairs. Both were dressed as assassins, Katyusha carrying a gun and looking innocent, and Natalia a knife and looking malicious.  
"Lady Natalia, Lady Katyusha," Eduard said, all three of the men bowing.  
"Yes, okay," the younger of the sisters said. "Where is my brother?"  
"I b-believe he is in the living room Lady Natalia," Raivis stammered. The Belarusian fled from the room in search of her older brother, whom with which she had a slightly unnerving fascination.

A few minutes later, the master of the house came in. He wore a suit, a captain's hat, and the usual scarf. There had been rumours going round that the scarf was actually part of the Russians body, but none of the Baltics knew whether they were true or not.  
"Hello everyone," he said quietly. Although the man did not make much noise, he had a very powerful and commanding tone that made you feel that you needed to listen to him and often obey him, particularly with those who were significantly weaker than others.

"Afternoon sir," the three said, bowing once more.  
"All of the refreshments have been laid out, and the decorations are up sir," Eduard said.  
"And the vodka?"  
"It is on its own table, so people can feel free to spike the punch, add it to existing drinks, or simply drink it on its own," Toris replied quickly.  
"Brilliant. Be prepared to let our first guests in."

* * *

The first to arrive were the five Nordics.  
"Welcome Tino, Berwald, Mathias, Emil, Lukas. Can we take your coats?" the three said in synchronisation.  
"Please," came the reply. They took the five's coats, and lead them towards the main room. They had all dressed up as young human adults, most definitely Mathias. They stood in a group, waiting for others to arrive so they could mingle and chat.

The bell rang again, and Raivis went to answer the door.  
"Welcome Heracles, may I take your coat?"  
"Feel free." The Greek appeared to be a neko for the night, and, as always, was adorned by several cats. He entered the Russian's house, but rather than chatting, sat down on the stairs and talked and petted the kittens accompanying him.

Third to come was Peter. He was dressed as a Buckingham Palace, minus the busy hat, instead with a white captain's hat.  
'I thought this was a country exclusive party,' Eduard thought to himself, but let the small boy in regardless, not wanting to be rude.  
"Welcome Peter, can I take your jacket?"  
"No, it's part of my costume. But thanks though."

Then it rang again. It was really infuriating now, and the three decided to stand in the porch with the door open. It would be a lot easier.  
"Ciao!" the bubbly Italian exclaimed bouncing with every step. Behind him was Ludwig, who appeared very close to strangling and hugging his boyfriend at the same time. He sighed, and then entered the building. They both went straight to the main room, and began chatting to the other guests.

After them came Romeo (who was dressed in Italian army uniform), Wendy (who was dressed as a painter), Francis and Feliks (who had come as a modern Juliet), Vash and Lili (dressed as a soldier and a candy cane), Arthur and Alfred, Sadik (who had come without his mask, which was fancy dress in itself), Antonio and Lovino (who had come as a member of the Italian Mafia), Kiku (in a ninja outfit), Bella and Lars (with a sundress and as a lion tamer), Yao (a Chinese dragon), Roderich and Elizabeta (dressed as a magician and a viking), and finally, Gilbert and Matthew (dressed as Pikachu).

"It's me guys, the amazing Prussia!" Gilbert exclaimed, entering the room. "Oh, hey West," he said, noticing his brother. He then proceeded to drag Matthew over to where Francis, Feliks, Antonio and Lovino were and began conversing with them.

After a few minutes of casual chat, their host arrived.  
"Welcome to you all, I hope you had a pleasant journey. Now that we are all present, the party can truly begin." As Ivan said those words, a disco ball descended from the ceiling, and 'DJ Kiku' started playing the music. The party was in full swing, and everyone was having a great time.

Gilbert immediately headed for the vodka table, grabbing half a glass so he could be the first to spike the punch. He cackled in glee, excited to see everyone, particularly Arthur, absolutely stoned. Francis and Antonio followed suit, adding a few shot glasses-full each.

* * *

A few hours into the party, Alfred had lost his boyfriend, and was searching everywhere for him. Reaching the alcohol tale, he leant against the wall to have a good look of the crowd and fell backwards into a secret corridor. Following the passageway, he came to a small room where Arthur, Francis, Antonio, Lovino, Feliks, Gilbert, and Mathias sat in a circle, a bottle mid-spin. Ah, so that was what they were playing. He said a quick hi, sat down between Lovino and Gilbert, and the game continued.

The Frenchman spun first, giving the vodka bottle a firm spin so that it rotated quite a number of times. It landed on Antonio. Lovino growled, and refused to look as Francis crawled over to Antonio and kissed him on the lips. From what Alfred could make out, the rules were 'on the lips for five seconds'. Antonio spun next, a lot gentler compared to Francis, and it landed on Lovino. The Spaniard smirked, and proceeded to French kiss his boyfriend, and several of them felt compelled to look away.

It was Lovino's turn next, and it landed on the Prussian. Gilbert laughed as Lovino scowled, but nonetheless, he did give him a five second kiss, wiping away any evidence of the kiss after. Gilbert laughed again, spinning the bottle slightly, only to have it land on Mathias. Gilbert looked at him, and then pounced on him, properly kissing him for the full five seconds.

"Okay, now I think we need to up the game a bit," Feliks said. "I reckon ten seconds with tongue?"  
"Sounds good, mon chère," Francis said, leaning behind Antonio to kiss Feliks quickly.  
Mathias spun, and the bottle landed on Arthur.  
"Well fuck me," the Brit exclaimed. He was most definitely drunk.  
"Trust me, I'm planning on it," Alfred muttered. The Prussian snickered, and watched as Arthur scowled at his boyfriend. Ignoring the side comment, he consented, and allowed the Dane to kiss him, even slightly returning the gesture.  
"Am I Catholic or Protestant?!" Arthur yelled, his usual question when hammered.  
"Er, Catholic?" Francis suggested.  
"No you bloody frog, I'm Protestant. Y'know, it is called the Church of _England_."  
"Whatever," Francis replied boredly. "Now Monsieur Kirkland, if you wouldn't mind spinning this delightful bottle here."

Arthur grumbled about frogs again, before spinning the bottle, allowing it to pick its next victim. Alfred. This was going to be good. Arthur slowly made his way over to his boyfriend, pausing to look at him before capturing him in one of their most passionate kisses yet. Francis stared in disbelief, he never knew that the Brit could be so loving.

Suddenly Yao, Matthew, Lars, Ludwig and Feliciano burst in, all of them singing a song which appeared to be about Doitsuism. Gilbert shook his head at the lot of them, before pulling Mattie onto his lap and getting everyone to make room for the others. Francis and Feliks shared a look. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Meanwhile, the rest of the Nordics, the Baltics, Ivan and his two sisters sat around a table playing card games. Those who lost had to take a shot of vodka, and so far, Tino, Berwald and Eduard were the only ones that had not had any. Tino had never actually had vodka before, and so was eager to try some; he was just really good at playing cards, and was very lucky too.

"Hah, I win!" Ivan exclaimed. "Berwald and Eduard, you lost, so your go to have some vodka, da?." The two grabbed a shot each, muttered cheers, and downed the spirit. Grimacing a little, they carried on playing, and eventually, Tino lost one. He picked up a shot a gulped it down quickly, before staring at Berwald.  
"This stuff is amazing! Why do we never drink it at home?"  
"Because," Berwald began, "I do not see the appeal of getting drunk in any respect, and so do not buy the stuff. Hence why I only buy wine and beer."  
"You're mean," Tino said, already slightly slurring. He had already had a beer or two and was a lightweight, so the vodka hit him quite quickly.

They continued playing the game for a while, until Tino, Raivis, Toris and Katyusha had fallen asleep.

* * *

Alfred, Arthur, Francis, Feliks, Antonio, Lovino, Ludwig, Feliciano, Matthew and Gilbert all stumbled back to the cabin they had rented out for the night, splitting the cost between each of them. All of them were drunk, particularly Arthur, Feliks and Gilbert. Matthew opened the door, for he was the one they had entrusted the key with, knowing that he would be the least likely to lose it during the party. They fell through the door, and sprawled out on the living room floor.

"Okay mes amies," Francis began, "let's play a game. We spin the bottle, and whoever it lands on has to go through, in order, who they would go out with out of the people here. So you say the person you would like to go out with most, and end with the person you would least like to go out with."  
"Sounds cool!" Alfred said. "But what does going out constitute as?"  
"I reckon we say a date. Whoever you would most like to go out on a date with," the Spaniard said quietly.

"Okay, everyone sit in a circle. The AWESOME me shall spin the bottle to see who goes first!" They sat down, and Gilbert spun the bottle. It landed on Arthur.  
"Oh, just fucking brilliant," the drunkard moaned. "Very well then." Pointing at the different people, he began to name them. "Well first it would be Alfred, duh. Then Feliciano, Gilbert, Lovino, Feliks, Antonio, Ludwig and then that bloody frog." He scowled. Francis looked at him in shock.  
"Why would you not want to go out with moi? Never mind, I would never go out on a date with you, you stupid Englishman."  
"Hang on a second, what about Mattie?" Gilbert exclaimed.  
"Sorry, didn't see you there. Okay, Alfred Matthew, Feliciano etc etc."

Arthur spun the bottle and it landed on Lovino.  
"Shit," Lovino cursed. "Fine, the tomato bastard, the quiet one, the French one, the really noisy one, my stupid fratello, the drunkard, the one that says he's awesome but he's not, the one in the dress, and finally the stupid macho potato."

They carried on doing this for a while, and it turned out that there were a few of them, such as Matthew, that no one really had a grudge against, and so were usually quite high up on the lists. However, Matthew was forgotten a few more times, and there ended up being a competition between Arthur and Lovino as to who could say the most swear words in one sentence. They both came up with some extremely foul-mouthed insults, but Arthur won by around five swear words, and Lovino cursed the Brit for the rest of the night. He was never going to win anything.

* * *

The next morning, the Nordics all woke up in the same room, all having fallen asleep in the living room of the cabin they had rented. They quickly got dressed and headed to the airport, wanting to get back to their homes immediately. Saying goodbye to the others, Berwald and Tino hopped on the same plane (they were both going to Tino's). When they got home, Tino sat on the floor, a bottle of vodka in hand.

"Y'know, I really need to start making some of this stuff. It's brilliant," Tino said, all of his words jumbling together.  
"Just brilliant," Berwald replied with a sigh. "Drunk Finnish people. Just what the world needs."

And so he did. Tino created Finlandia Vodka, and to this day, declares it the best form of alcohol possible.


End file.
